Firsts
by thewoofles
Summary: Some of the 'firsts' in the life of Issac Hawke. M!Hawke/Isabella, M!Hawke/Anders. A short Issac-centric fic. M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

He didn't know a lot about women...that didn't mean he didn't want to though. He did, just life had made that a tad bit difficult. As the eldest it was his duty to protect the family. Issac had failed once before, and he never wanted to fail again. Oh but how those girls in Lothering would make eyes at him... a cruel test by The Maker he decided, one that he would pass.

….

At Ostagar the rules were different. The women were from all over Ferelden, not the girls from Lothering asking to many questions about his family, about his sister...he could maybe here...the thought of such things sent wanton images to his brain, and a stiffness to his loins...Maker how could he even talk to one of them if just thinking about it...no he should try right, after all he could die tomorrow.

….

"Uh, hi there." Suddenly the words left him, what would he even say, what would he even talk about? The lanky brunette turned and looked him over.

"Piss off, we've got a battle ahead and I need to sharpen my blade." She spat.

"So do I." Issac uttered under his breath, maybe giggling girls were a better bet than battle-hardened women. He decided against trying again in favor of sharpening his own blade in the privacy of his tent. Issac was about to enter when he heard heavy breathing, grunts, and moans escaping the thin canvas...Carver...even Carver was...The Maker was playing some sick joke. He retreated back to a nearby fire to wait it out, at least affording his brother some privacy.

….

":May I join you?" A woman? Maybe this endeavor was not a total waste.

"Yeah sure." He slid over to make room. She sat next to him her light brown braids bouncing slightly. Then that silence, that dreaded silence. She gazed sadly into the fire, then back at him, her green eyes meeting his blue.

"So where are you from?" Small talk...good good this could head somewhere.

"My brother and I are here from Lothering. We joined up when the army passed through, you know to protect our home and such." He doubted he could sound less interesting... "You?"

"Just from a small farm outside of Denerim. My father and I had gone into town to get some supplies when we heard about the Blight. They were taking volunteers so I enlisted right then an there. Now that I'm here...I can't say I don't regret it." A blush crept from her neck to her cheeks. "But I guess we all have to pitch in right, to save our homes..."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I keep thinking of everything I haven't done yet." Issac sighed heavily. "But if this axe makes the difference between Ferelden being over run by Darkspawn... well there are worse things to throw ones life away on." He smiled weakly.

"I know what you mean...I keep thinking of things I haven't done as well..." She moved an inch closer...he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

"Y...yeah...like what?" He stammered. He wills it to be of the intimate variety.

"Sitting by you was no accident...you are very handsome." Her eyes dart back and forth between his face and the fire...so she's nervous too. "I wanted to ask you something...well if you could do something for me?" The tent...maybe she had her own...or he could toss Carver and whatever woman he was with out on their asses...they've had their fun.

"Ah ok...what do you want me to do?" Or they could maybe wonder around until they found a secluded spot...it wouldn't be that bad, he wouldn't have to worry it would be her first time too...they could figure it out.

"I've...I've never...Oh Maker this is silly of me" her blush deepens, and she turns away.

"No its alright tell me." He puts an awkward hand on one of her shoulders and attempts a warm grin he's sure looks either goofy or creepy. She'll say no...he's pushing the issue now...

"I've never been kissed." She mumbles and he can tell she is deeply embarrassed. What kind of deviant was he to think that she wanted sex from him...she just met him. Thinking though, he had never kissed or been kissed either...not in the way that it counted at least. He had only gotten familial kisses on the cheek from his mother or sister.

"Ok, um we can do that." He leaned in towards her and closed his eyes. Issac soon felt the soft warmth envelop his lips. He parted them slightly in turn she deepened the kiss, but all too soon she pulled away just as he moved to wrap his arms around her.

"Yeah...thanks...I...well I wish you luck tomorrow..." She hurried away leaving him dumbstruck. Then he realized, his first kiss...he didn't even know her name.


	2. Chapter 2

She liked to tease him, he knew that. Less than innocent touches, a hand on his thigh under a table at the Hanged Man. It stayed like that for far too long.

He's had a few drinks, not enough to be good and drunk, but enough to throw caution to the wind. When her hand finds its way to his thigh he does not turn away, or get up to leave. His own reaches down to cover it and draw it over to the stiffness in his breeches. Issac blushes, glad he has chosen to be so brazen on a night where it is just the two of them. He could have never pulled something like that off with Varric or Merrill staring across the table. Isabella responds with an amused hum and stokes him through the fabric.

He bites his lower lip, a beautiful woman was touching him like this...not just any beautiful woman, but the one he's been infatuated with from the moment he saw her. Those curves, gorgeous bronze skin, raven hair, but that attitude strong, fierce and, independent. He fell in love with her tales of adventure on the sea, and hoped one day she would find him just as interesting.

"How about we take this to my room sweet thing." His heart raced, she was finding him interesting tonight. A slight prickling of anxiety crept into his mind. Her experience...surely she would be able to tell...Maker what if he wasn't even able to last...He could try and be humiliated, or be humiliated by running away, at least the with the first option he'd be rid of his virginity.

"Yeah that sounds like a good idea." It sounded so stupid, how does one sound sexy? He's sure she sounds that way naturally. She has taken his hand, and smiling she leads him up the stairs.

Isabella pushes him onto the bed and follows after, sitting on his lap wrapping her legs around his waist. He pushes lips to hers and she opens them to run her tongue across his. Issac's nervousness takes second place to the desire now coursing through his body and his tongue lashes hers and he grinds his erection against her. He hopes she mistakes sloppy inexperience for impatient lust.

"An eager boy aren't we." Isabella giggles pulling away from his mouth. Her fingers dance across his chest and she slides down kissing the muscled plane. "It really is a crime how you walk abound like that, hardly ever wearing a shirt. I wonder how many souls you've tempted?" He thinks how silly it is of her to make that statement seeing as how she dresses is the source of many an embarrassing and inopportune erection.

Isabella reaches over to a small table next to the bed for a pipe and lights it with a burning candle. She inhales, and after a small pause exhales filling the room with a curious aroma. With the pipe back on the table she returns to him kissing and nipping at his chest. His hands roam her back and settle on grabbing the curve of her ass. She is moving lower now her lips at his abs still progressing downward...Maker he doesn't want to lose it if she...The nimble hands free his cock from the restrictive clothing. She grins as she stokes it gently.

"I'm impressed Hawke, very impressed." He would feel proud except his brain can't properly function, and it all but turns to jelly when she takes him into her mouth. Isabella's tongue makes long broad strokes against the underside of his member, traveling up the shaft to encircle the head before she plunges downward to do it over and over again. He fights back the urge to grab her head and push himself deeper into her throat. It might feel immaculate, but he was a gentleman first and opted for the safer option of his hands behind his head gripping the mattress. A new urge yet a very familiar one wells up inside his core...

"Isabella...Maker..." He gently pulls his prick from her eager mouth. "I want to touch you." He hopes it can distract her from lavishing anymore attention to his overly sensitive length.

She has removed her clothing, but left on the jewelry and bandana, not that it bothers him. As if anything could bother him with a pair of beautiful huge breasts before him, dark nipples stiffening to his touch. He's absolutely mesmerized by them. He kneads them, cups the underside of them, and rolls the buds between fingers. She moans approvingly and her breath hitches when flicks his tongue across a peak.

"Enough teasing already Hawke." Its unexpected how warm, how hot, and how tight it is when she slowly lowers herself onto his cock. She is slick, wet from arousal, allowing him to slide in filling her with ease. She rises and falls riding him in a steady rhythm, and now he knows why this is such an important thing to everyone...the pleasure is amazing, every nerve ablaze with the tight tantalizing buildup to inevitable release. Its not just wondrous in the sense of the tactile, but in the visual as he watches her breasts sway and his prick disappears and reappears as she takes him inside her. She moans his name, and it is almost his undoing...he can't last much...but she is riding him harder and faster screaming "YES!" He feels her muscles clench around his member, and he feels his own release coming on. He grabs her hips trusting hard and erratically until he has spilled his seed into her.

He doesn't move. He breaths heavily. Issac feels the weight still sitting astride his softening prick. She has reached over once again to take a drawl from the pipe. When she replaces it again she rises, and he is met with the sight of his own seed leaking down her thighs, a vision that causes his cock to twitch slightly. "I'm going to clean up. You can stay and recover a bit if you need to. I'll be back down at the bar." She smiles at him mischievously. "Issac, I'd really like to do this again sometime."

He is alone. He wants her to feel the same way about him that he feels about her. In time perhaps? It was good yes...but life-changing? The boys back in Lothering...they used to brag about their sexual adventures to their friends...maybe talking about it would help him figure everything out...Anders, he could always talk to Anders. Yes, he would rest a few more minutes and make his way to the clinic.


	3. Chapter 3

"But Da told me not to..." The girl protested.

"Oh come on Beth please? You know he hardly ever shows me magic. I just want to see some more." Issac pleaded with his younger sister to follow him. He had always been fascinated by the magical abilities of his father and sister. His father was too cautious to indulge Issac's curiosity, but on a few occasions his sister had been willing.

"But what if I hurt you again?" She had thrown him into a side of a barn by accident before.

"I told you you didn't hurt me! Nothing hurts me!" The boy thumped his bare chest with false bravado. Sure it had hurt, but not enough to warrant abandoning his plans. "Besides you've had a lot more practice!" He beamed at her. "I bet you could set someone on fire, then freeze them solid." She blushed at his flattery.

"Oh brother that's not true." She turned suddenly. "Oh hi Carver." She said nervously to the sullen boy approaching them.

"What are you guys doing?" Carver asked, his tone bordering a demand.

"None of your business, now run along and play with some sticks or something." Issac spat at his younger brother.

"You know you look stupid in that Issac." Carver retorted, pointing to the over large trousers around Issac's waist. The bottom of the pant legs had been sheared off so they wouldn't drag the ground, and they were tied in the middle with a length of rope.

"You're just jealous Da let me have his old trousers and not you. He let me have them because I'm a grown up and you're still a baby!" Issac responded in the sing-song voice he knew grated his brothers nerves.

"I'm telling mother that you're up to something!" Carver whined turning back toward the cottage.

"Well I guess I'll have to tell Da who broke his favorite staff then." A smug look crossed Issac's face when he saw his brother's panicked reaction.

"You...you wouldn't?"

"I will if you don't leave us alone!" To this Carver grumbled off, complaining under his breath about how he really didn't care what stupid things they were up too.

"Maybe we should let him come." Bethany softly spoke up.

"No way! You know he'd tattle!" But that wasn't the only reason...he was being selfish, this display of magic was for him alone.

…..

They were far enough away he was sure of it. The field was open, perhaps he was being reckless...on second inspection Issac reckoned it was fine, he didn't see anyone.

"Ok so what has Da been teaching you?" He sat down in the grass expectantly eyes glued to his sister as she conjured a small flame in the palm of her hand. "Oh wow Beth!" Issac grinned so very amused at the small bit of magic.

"You should see when Da does it. He can make fire rain from the sky!" Bethany threw the small flame into the air, and it dispelled in a small plume of white smoke.

"I guess you're not there yet sis, but you will be I just know it!" She returned his encouragement with a smile.

"You really think so?"

"Of course! Can you freeze anything yet?"

"A little, I don't know if its any good..."

"Oh come on show me, show me." Issac leaned up on his knees as his sister picked an orange and yellow striped flower from the grass. Bethany closed her eyes and her face tensed in concentration. Issac's eyes grew wide as frost slowly encased the stem working its way up to each petal. The result was the flower encased, shimmering, glass-like, one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

"A WITCH...APOSTATE!" A boy behind them screamed. Bethany jerked sharply, the flower shattered on the ground between them. Issac felt a rush of guilt as the boy took flight yelling for Templars. He pushed Bethany aside, clear in what he had to do. He had to protect her, it was his fault, all his fault...he didn't want them to take her away...he had to stop the boy. Issac tackled the boy shoving his face into the dirt below. The boy rolled over beneath him, trying to push Issac off. He was not any younger than Issac, maybe even older, it would make it easier...he had to...he had to... The boy's screams echoed in his ears as his fists connected over and over again.

"You will never have her! You can't take her away!" He growled bashing the boy's head into the ground. "Do you hear me! You won't take my sister!" Each word punctuated with a blow. The boy made the most horrible noises, it sickened him to realize that it sounded like an animal being slaughtered. He had to...he was a threat, it was his fault...he had to protect his family...it was his fault. The cries became weaker...his fault...his hands were around the boy's throat...he had to...

"ISSAC!" The deep voice of his father boomed at him. "STOP!" Issac loosened his grip, turning to see the intimidating frame of Malcolm Hawke. Bethany must have run and got him...

"I had to...I...he..." Words couldn't escape his lips, and he did the only thing he could when he saw the blood staining his hands...he wept. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The apology hardly sounded like words choked by his heavy sobs. His father placed a stern hand on his shoulder.

"Go home Issac. Go home and tell your mother to pack up what she can. I have to heal him. I will be back as soon as I can, now hurry boy!" His fingers gripped hard into Issac's shoulder as he pushed him in the direction towards the cottage. Issac hesitated for a second watching his father cast a blue light over the unmoving boy, and then ran as fast as he could being blinded with tears.

…..

Bethany and Carver were curled up next to his mother. All sleeping soundly on an over-large blanket several feet away from the crackling fire. Issac could not sleep. Shame welled up in his gut. His father had said nothing to him since the incident, and now they were alone by the fire. He had avoided even making eye-contact with his father out of guilt and fear. He had let him down.

"I set the rules for a reason Issac. What happened...it should have never happened. You should have known better." His father held him in a severe gaze. "You are the eldest, I expected better from you. I'm disappointed." He never had felt so small. "Your response was inappropriate. That boy, you meant to kill him?"

"I didn't want to." Was all he could muster to say.

"You should have gotten me immediately. I know I told you to protect the family, but not like that son. That display was unnecessary and...troubling." His father sighed. "Let this be a lesson, you will never put Bethany in that kind of danger again. If something happens to me, you have to protect this family. I need to be able to know you will do it the right way."

"I will. I'm sorry...I'm sorry. I'll never do it again." And he meant it, Issac knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if they took her, if it was his fault...

"I will hold you to your word son." They sat in silence for several minutes until his father spoke again. "You should get some sleep. I will take watch. We have a long way to travel tomorrow." Issac moved to recline, but he didn't close his eyes, regret kept him restless.


	4. Chapter 4

Issac could feel the cold stone steps below him, and a crick in his neck. Why was he passed out right in front of the Amell manor? He pushed himself up into a sitting position, his head spinning. Yes…he started to remember the night before, well what he could from it.

….

"I don't like it when you do that you know." He crossed his arms. "Its quite cruel when you flirt with them right in front of me, like you plan on sleeping with them or something." It stung, every man, every woman, who was a target for her playful and suggestive flirtations made him burn with jealousy.

"So what if I am planning on it?" Isabela took a swig of her ale before a look of panic realization crossed her face. "Oh…sweet thing…you knew what this was." There is a small sadness to her voice.

"I…I thought with time. I thought you'd feel the same way." Issac bit his lip nervously, if he told her, maybe she would understand, maybe some part of her felt that way too. "Isabela, I…I'm in love with you."

"Issac. Don't." She warned.

"Don't what? I'm not allowed to tell you how I feel? I've felt this for you from the moment I first laid eyes on you! Please, don't you feel something deeper?" His eyes were wide in fearful questioning. He took her hand in his dropping to a knee as he did so as if begging, pleading, for her to love him as he loved her.

Isabela slowly drew her hand back to side and rose from the table. She placed a gentle kiss on the warrior's forehead. "You'll always be special to me Issac, I thought you knew, I really thought you understood how I felt about this. I care about you, and I like having a good time with you, but that's all."

He felt like a load of bricks had been lowered onto his chest. Words stuck in his throat as tears welled up, yet stayed in his eyes. "It would be for the best if we didn't see each other in the…uh…capacity we were before. Its obvious it meant a great deal more to you than it did to me, and I really don't want to hurt you anymore." There was regret in her voice and she walked away from him. Issac stayed rooted to the spot. So this was what it felt to have one's heart broken.

…..

He drinks...the amber ale fills him with warmth. He drinks to forget but all he can do is remember. Her every soft touch, her words whispered into his ears, breath against his skin. He is a man...and men shouldn't blubber into their drinks, lamenting to their friend the cruel sting of a woman, but Issac does, and tears may even come once or twice. More ale flows, the elf listens, and comforts without words. Someone says he's had enough and they end up thrown into a wall.

Issac drinks more and she blows in, his throat is dry. She says nothing to him, an he just watches. She goes to work on another, seducing with gentle touches and flirty words. He drinks faster and curses women louder. She takes the newcomer upstairs...she's going to fuck the guy. He's never felt so small, so worthless. He tells the elf how much of a catch he is, how stupid she was for leaving him, and the elf drunkenly nods in agreement. He starts to believe himself. He could have anyone, any woman here... Someone is taking him home...someone wants him...the rest is a blackness in his memory.

….

The room spins, he's on a cot...someone is asleep upper half at the foot of the bed. Issac squints... Maker...he realizes the healer, his friend until they had the fight...Anders. There was blood...shit...there was blood all over Anders' hands, on his clothes...What did he do...what even happened? He stumbles out of the cot. He doesn't know and doesn't want to find out. The world still spins, and somehow he makes it to the outside of the Amell estate, he came this far...but...he's so tired...


	5. Chapter 5

He regrets it…ever little taunt to his brother. Not just because his brother is dead, but also because of how he feels about Anders. Issac could kick him self for every time he would tease Carver and ask him if one of the local boys, his brothers friends, was his boyfriend.

…..

_"___Do you kiss your little boyfriends Carver? I see you all sneak around. Do you kiss behind the barn?"__

_"___Stop it! They are just friends and you'd know that if you had any!" He couldn't have any, and Carver shouldn't either. The family had to come first, the secrecy of protecting Da and Bethany.__

_"___Oh I'm sorry I don't want to spend my time fondling other boys pricks. I have more important things to do."__

_"___WE DON'T DO THAT! Spending all your free time with your sister, that's important I take it?" His brother scowled at him Issac smacked the back of Carvers head and the boy started to cry.__

_"___Don't be such a baby Carver! Fine go play with your little boyfriends, and if you breathe a word to mother about this…" Issac grabbed him threateningly and his brother pushed back landing a decent hit to Issac's nose before running off.__

_….._

Issac sighs sitting on his bed alone. He deserves to feel this way. No one tells him it is wrong but himself, no one says they will think less of him…be he thinks less of himself, and the other must be lying. He lays back and stares at the ceiling. When did he start feeling like this…when did he start wanting more than friendship from the mage? It wasn't that long ago he was enamored with Isabela. After that ended Anders had been there for him... after...he remembers his fist crashing into the mage's face the man prone on the floor after his rage. After that, after he struck him, it was Anders making sure his idiotic drunk self was safe...Anders watching over him through the night, falling asleep at his bedside. Had anyone ever cared about him like that?

And that wasn't even the full extent of it...Issac normally used images of Isabela archived in his mind for his sexual fantasies. Slowly Anders crept into the scenarios. He and Anders taking her together at first, and over time he imagined touching the mage, kissing him...eventually tasting him...recently Isabela disappeared completely from his fantasies and he would open his eyes ashamed of the mess on his belly and the mage's name on his lips.

"I'm not like that." He says aloud as if doing so would convince his heart and body otherwise. "I'm not..." He has to leave, clear his head...maybe doing some silly thing that people always ask him to do, some random quest. That will do it! Maybe he'd even get some fighting in, and he'd need a healer for that...

…..

One of the slavers is behind Anders, a blade gleams in the sun and rage mingled with worry overflows within Issac. He leaps with no regards to himself. For a split moment he thought about if he failed, and his gut lurches uncomfortably. He lands the blow, axe careening into the slaver leaving him cut diagonally neck to mid chest. Anders is safe. Issac mutters something chiding the mage to be more careful...then mumbling over some lines about not wanting to lose is healer. He knows his face burns, and he hopes Anders cannot tell.

….

They part ways, and he is glad for it. Being around Anders is some kind of torture. Fenris stormed off after they had killed his former master's apprentice. Issac wished he could have helped his friend more so. His regret is forgotten when he arrives at the manor to see the elf waiting for him.

What was said is not what he will remember...exchanges are made apologies and Fenris moves to leave, too early, Issac knows he still needs to work through...Fenris slams him against a wall...his eyes open wide with the epiphany as the elf's lips are so close he can feel hot breath escape. "Don't." He manages to stutter out and Fenris pulls away embarrassed.

"I...I'm sorry...I...this shouldn't have happened Hawke...everything today I just...forget it. I appreciate your help today." Fenris leaves and Issac still has his back against the cold stone wall...he wasn't disgusted by the fact that he was almost kissed by a man...he was painfully aware how he needed it to be Anders...He had to stop lying to himself. As wrong as it makes him feel...deep down he is starting to believe that it is right.


End file.
